


Season Premiere

by poetroe



Series: Not That Straight [4]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Downton Abbey - Freeform, F/F, Kate has a thing for America's arms, Kissing, Neighbors, amerikate - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 18:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15955085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetroe/pseuds/poetroe
Summary: Clint Barton has a penchant for fucking things up. Only at this point, Kate has been living with Clint for too long to still be calling it a ‘penchant’. It’s more of a curse. And of course everything has to go wrong the day the new, third season of Downton Abbey premiers.(Amerikate Neighbors AU)





	Season Premiere

**Author's Note:**

> Amerikate is the first ship I really started to write fanfics about after I created my AO3 account, and it's been so long since my last one that I just sat down and wrote this little one shot this afternoon!! I love Downton Abbey as well and I hope I've written it into this fic in a way that's still understandable for the folks who haven't watched it. Either way enjoy and thanks for reading!

Clint Barton has a penchant for fucking things up. Only at this point, Kate has been living with Clint for too long to still be calling it a ‘penchant’. It’s more of a curse. And of course everything has to go wrong the day the new, third season of Downton Abbey premiers.

“Look, if you had just called and told me you were going to destroy the tv today I would have stayed at the hotel and watched it there,” Kate says to the back of Clint’s head. Clint has his back turned to his former apprentice and current roommate, and is crouched down in front of their tv to assess the damage. Not that there’s much to assess: there are three arrows stuck in the cracked screen.

“Uh, yeah, sorry Katie,” Clint says, turning around to meet Kate’s gaze with a sheepish look on his face, amplified by the way he’s awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “It’s just—Nat came over, we had a couple of beers—well I did, she had wine—and you know how I get when someone dares me to do something.”

“Right,” Kate replies, rolling her eyes. “Don’t remind me.” But it’s too late; Kate has already remembered that one time when she’d dared the master marksman to finish their mini-golf game with the perfect score of sole hole-in-ones. They were there for two whole days. Kate does not like being reminded. With a sigh, she walks to their kitchen and opens up the fridge. “There are… four cans of beer, thirty pounds of C-4 explosives and not a single item of food. I think we need to go grocery shopping.” Clint is still giving her that sheepish look and Kate squints. “Correction: _you_ need to go grocery shopping. And buy a new tv.”

“Why me?” Clint groans. “I’m a poor carnie, I can’t just buy a new tv. You know, not all of us inherited enough money to buy out NASA.” Kate sighs again.

“I don’t have—”

“Please,” Clint interrupts. “Tony Stark has more money than God, and you have more money than Stark.”

“Alright, _fine_ ,” Kate growls, while digging into her purse to find her wallet. With probably more force than necessary, she gets out her credit card and pushes it into Clint’s hand. “Buy it on me. And hurry up, the premiere is starting in half an hour. Different time zones, remember?”

“Yeah, okay,” Clint answers as he pushes her card in the back pocket of his jeans and gets his keys from the counter. “I’ll be fast. But just in case I don’t make it back in time, we have a new neighbor who I bet would let you watch it on her tv. She’s real sweet.”

“No thanks,” Kate says with a grimace. “Nothing against old people, but I’d rather watch it on a livestream than in some dusty apartment with granny smell.” Clint laughs at her and doesn’t answer as he walks out the door.

Kate gives their busted tv a pitying look as she boots up her laptop. After being away for two months, she’d expected a laid-back afternoon, hanging off the couch with Barton while watching a brand-new episode of her favorite costume drama, and maybe having a pizza after. Instead, she comes home to property damage and no way to watch her favorite show ever, because all the livestream links Kate can find either lead to spam advertisements or notifications that the stream ‘isn’t available in your country’.

“God,” Kate says to herself, while checking the time in the righthand corner of her screen. There are ten minutes left. “I guess I’ll have to bear the old lady smell.”

Resigned and having accepted her fate, Kate steps outside the apartment and knocks on their neighbor’s door. Imagine her surprise when instead of a sweet little old lady, a devastatingly handsome girl opens the door. Kate has to force herself to look away from incredibly muscular arms and reminds herself that the eyes are up there, in that incredibly handsome face.

“Uh,” she starts, and could she sound more like Barton? Despite her two month absence, it seems that living together with the archer is taking its toll. The girl looks at her expectantly and gives her a reassuring smile. “So,” Kate starts again, “I’m Kate, you probably know my roommate, Clint Barton. You see, he broke our tv again and I really _really_ don’t want to miss the premiere of Downton Abbey, and Clint said that you’re real sweet and would probably let me watch it here. So, um, can I? If you don’t mind, I mean—”

“Sure,” the girl answers with a grin, effectively putting a stop to Kate’s rambling. “I’m America. Come on in.” Without waiting for Kate, America turns around and walks back into her apartment, leaving the door open. “Come on,” America calls over her shoulder. “It’s probably already started. Time zones, am I right?”

As it turns out, America and Kate have more in common than Kate initially thought. For starters, they both like British costume dramas, which is a win in Kate’s book. Then, in between all the drama of Mary and Matthew’s wedding and Lord Grantham’s money problems, America tells her about sometimes beating people up for justice, to which Kate answers: ‘No way! Me too!’ They don’t speak much after that, both too captivated by the woes of British country life, until Kate speaks up; right after Sybil, the youngest daughter who ran away with the chauffeur, has returned to Downton.

“Okay, so,” she starts, “who would you rather marry, Matthew or Branson?” America, who’s sitting next to her on the couch, snorts.

“Neither. I’d marry Sybil, though,” she answers. Kate grins.

“Ah, a girl after my own heart. I mean, Matthew is adorable, but Sybil can get it any day.” At that, America starts laughing.

“Man,” she says after having caught her breath, “I did not expect that.”

“Why?” Kate asks, feeling slightly offended. “Did you assume I was straight?” On screen, Matthew and his mother are having a conversation about an inheritance that has unexpectedly fallen into Matthews lap.

“Well, yeah,” America answers, a playful glint in her eyes. “You were the one asking which _boy_ I’d want to marry.”

“Okay,” Kate replies, “but I’m not. I’m bi. Now shut up and let me watch Matthew’s perfect hair.” America starts chuckling again, but Kate doesn’t really mind it this time, because this entire conversation has been a big, glaring sign that America isn’t straight either, and that Kate might have a shot with the perfect human specimen sitting next to her. After all, America liked Sybil—the rebellious one. And Kate is the most rebellious person she knows.

They watch the rest of the episode in comfortable silence, which is only interrupted when Kate feels the need to point out how much of a dick certain characters are being. About halfway through, Kate shifts and lets her shoulder touch America’s. To her relief, America reciprocates her attempt at physical contact and slings one strong arm around Kate’s shoulders. By the time the credits roll, Kate is pressed up snugly against her neighbor, and feeling so comfortable that she never wants to leave.

“That was cute,” America says. The episode is over and Mary and Matthew are finally married. Kate nods.

“Yeah, and thank God. I couldn’t take it if something split them up again,” she says.

“You got that right,” America replies. “Though it would’ve been Matthew’s fault this time.”

“True,” Kate answers. “You know, it’s great that you’re into Downton Abbey. When Clint said we had a new neighbor I could watch it with, I honestly was expecting some old lady. Instead it’s—well, _you_.” She looks at America, who’s smirking again.

“Better than an old lady, huh? That’s certainly made my night,” she answers. Kate blushes and punches America’s shoulder in protest.

“Look, you own a mirror, you know what I mean.” America doesn’t react apart from meeting Kate’s gaze.

“Takes one to know one,” she answers, and her tone is void of anything that could make Kate think she was joking. Just like that, the carefree, somewhat flirty tone of their conversation has been replaced with a tension Kate can’t quite put her finger on. She’s obviously into America, and when she says things like this, Kate is convinced America is into her, too.

“Okay, what the hell,” Kate says, because she’s been seriously crushing on America all night and after the hour-long period drama they’ve just watched, Kate wants to be straightforward. So, she just does what she’s wanted to do the entire time she’s been sitting on this couch: she turns around a little and leans forward.

If America is surprised by the kiss, she doesn’t let it show. Instead, and to Kate’s enthusiasm, she puts a hand in Kate’s hair and eagerly kisses back. They make out for what feels like an eternity, with hands sneaking below t-shirts and bodies pressed flush against each other, but at some point Kate pulls back.

“What?” America asks. She looking positively disheveled, her hair a mess from when Kate’s hands were running through her curls earlier. Kate didn’t think it would be possible, but she looks even more gorgeous than when she first opened up her apartment door.

“Nothing,” Kate says eventually. “Just wanted to look at you for a sec.” That earns her a wide smile and a face showered in kisses.

“So,” America says when they’re both all kissed out. “Same time next week, princess?”

“Well, of _course_ ,” Kate answers incredulously. “And what did you just call me?”

“’Princess’, princess,” America says with a shrug. “Barton told me you’re pretty rich, so.” Kate rolls her eyes and at that moment, vows to destroy at least two things Clint is emotionally attached to.

“God help me, I’m going to kill him,” Kate mutters as she walks to the door. America chuckles as she follows her.

“Please don’t,” she says. “You’d be in jail and miss the next couple of episodes. And I’m not sure I could wait for you to watch them all.”

“You’re right,” Kate says, before giving America a brief kiss. “I’ll kill him when the season’s finished.” She grins at America one last time, kind of regretting that their afternoon together has ended already, and opens the door to Clint’s apartment. He’s not there yet—strangely enough, because Kate has been at America’s for three hours at the least. Probably at Natasha’s, Kate wonders, before grinning and starting the hunt on Clint’s favorite mug.


End file.
